20 | Dreaming
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My eyelids flutter open.
It takes me a minute to realise where I am.
I'm comfortable, dripping with sleep, none of my body wanting to move a muscle. I squint at the scene in front of me - the dark room with the outline of the TV slightly visible, the faint hum of wind swirling outside the window. I blink, waiting for my brain to catch up.
Nolan's apartment.
That snaps me out of sleep a little harder. I remember the snow, the shower, the movie. That's how I ended up on this couch. I stir my head gently, glancing down onto what I think are pillows. Did Nolan leave me to fall asleep?
That question is answered by the sound of breath, faint but unmistakably above me. Wait, Above me?
It's only then that I realise I'm not resting on any pillows, I'm not resting on any part of the couch at all.
My head has fallen into Nolan's lap.
My cheeks bloom with embarrassment almost immediately but I'm frozen, one hand gripping the side of the couch suddenly. I can see the outline of his legs now, see exactly where I am. He's leant back, slightly angled off the couch so my head rests on the top of his pelvis.
And I'm suddenly burning with the warmth of his crotch. The heat of his cock beside my face. My chest coils, brain fully stirring to life. Shit. I need to move, free myself from this weird fucking accident - but I don't.
It's weirdly comfortable, the parts of me that aren't internally panicking wanting to drift back into sleep here forever. It helps that he's not awake either. My breath hitches as I continue to pause, deciding what to do.
As I carefully turn my head upwards I see his face, his soft, closed eyelids and messy hair, darker in the lack of light. It makes me blush harder. Something about how vulnerable he looks, quiet and not in control. He almost looks pretty and my stomach flips.
He moves suddenly and every part of me holts, skin burning with our intimate contact. But he doesn't wake, he just gently threads the hand already resting on my head further into my hair. I hadn't even noticed it but now it's all I can feel.
It feels...nice. It feels like he cares, like there's some protectiveness in his actions even when he's fucking sleeping. I let him look after me today, be this person he's aiming to be. I hate that I liked it, worse than that, I actually enjoyed myself.
I'm still staring at him, I can't seem to help it. My eyes thread down over his neck, his broad shoulders, the faint outline of abs under his loose t-shirt. My fingers stir, hands wanting to touch him. His jaw, his neck, his lips, every part of him. God dammit.
I can still feel his crotch beneath me, gently crushed under my head now. I think, for just a second, that I'd like to run my hands over that too. It's so inappropriate, fucking wrong and stupid. But my brain is a swirled mess, fuelled by his charming face in this darkness.
That heat between my legs flutters to life, a slick ache that makes me swallow the lump in my throat.
Before I can even process that Nolan begins to stir,actuallystir this time.
Embarrassment overcomes my brain is one swift sweep and I immediately shoot out of his lap.
What would he think about me laying here?
What would he think about any of these dangerous thoughts I have right now?
He blinks awake, squinting. It takes him a moment to turn his attention over to me but when he does his face pulls into a sloppy smile.
"What time is it?" He murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
It's like before, when we went to the housewarming party.
.. only it isn't, because right now all it's doing is stimulating the burning desire between my thighs.
It's deeper, throatier, reverberating through my mind.
My chest clenches and I can't find any words.
He's so attractive right now it hurts.
I just shrug, not attempting to form a sentence.
He wipes one of his eyes then starts fumbling around for his phone on the couch. He finds it wedged somewhere behind him and the screen flashes on. We both wince, the brightness scorching my eyeballs.
01:00 pm
"Fuck," He groans, "You- we should go to sleep."
I'm so distracted by the strained way fuck just left his mouth that I almost miss what he says entirely. My rational thoughts bleed back to life as I tear my eyes away from him and towards the window instead.
"I can't sleep here," I mutter.
He huffs a drowsy laugh, ignoring me, "You take my bed, I'll take the couch."
His bed?
"No," I shoot back.
There's a ripple of silence. It stretches for a million years.
"Ava," He commands eventually, "Look at me."
I don't want to see his face, his kind eyes, his stupid messy hair. I'm too tired to control the reaction my body is having right now, these feelings are eating me alive. I can't draw a line, block it out, pretend any of this is normal.
"No," I say again, only this time it's a very non-convincing whisper. It doesn't help that I can see him reflected behind me in the window, not fully, but a faint picture.
"Ava," He urges.
And I crack, easily, because he always manages to make me.
I face him, my eyes meeting his hazel ones. His chest rises with each breath, one hand reaching up to rest on the back of his neck as he watches me intently.
"You know you can't drive right now," He hums, "And I'm not letting you sleep on the couch like an asshole. You're taking the bed."
His tone is authoritative, final. There's no point arguing back. I can see it in his gaze, even if it's still extremely sleep-filled. My lips part gently but no sound comes out, any protest lost to the silence.
I barely feel conscious as we slowly shift off the couch. Time is warped, strangled by sleep. It's like I'm in some strange dream, an alternate universe. I'm watching Nolan show me to his room, offer me his bed. My eyes lazily graze those grey sheets as he flicks on a hazy lamp.
There's not much talk, either. I don't know why. But it doesn't feel uncomfortable, it's just charged. There's an energy there, a bundle of something humming in the air. I'm almost suffocated by it when we get to the bathroom and Nolan offers me a toothbrush.
I look at it then raise my brows at him, questioning.
He smiles, "It's brand new, I promise."
When I don't say anything he spins around and produces the packaging he just took it from, offering it up as some sort of proof. Good. I take it from his hands, letting him squirt toothpaste onto the end.
We brush our teeth in the same dampened silence, only really looking at each other through the mirror in front of us. He looks bigger, especially compared to me. Taller, mostly. His head towers above mine, that minty foam frothing around his lips.
I almost ask him how tall he is but I hold my tongue. It feels weird to cut through this quiet. Probably over six feet.
We finish and I leave the toothbrush beside his in the pot. I almost still, pause myself to read into it. I'm stood in his apartment, wearing his clothes, sharing his fucking bathroom. It's so domestic, so couple-y. And I don't hate it.
I don't dislike this quiet routine, just being in his presence. It wraps around me, smothers me with warmth. I'm actually comfortable, at ease. I never thought I'd feel that way around Nolan, ever. But by some fault in the universe it's happened.
When I approach his room he's changed into pyjamas, ones with those dark blue checkered pants that fall down over his legs. His hair is still a mess, almost like a mark of sleep. My eyes fall over his jaw. His expression is soft, not a smile, a searching concern. His eyes scan me over.
"You okay?" He murmurs, walking up to where I'm standing in the doorway.
I nod softly, "Yeah." It comes out in a whisper.
He gives a slow blink of approval, leaving a bit of space for me to slip past him. We don't touch as I do but the air crackles, fizzling with everything unspoken. When I turn back to face him he's taken the spot I just stood in.
"Sleep well, Ava," He breathes, still staring at me. I wish he wouldn't look at me like that, like I'm beautiful, like he cares about me. It's the thing that seems to break me.
"You too," I say back, throwing my own weak smile.
There's another moment, the ones that keep happening. Eye contact that lasts too long, pierces too deep into my soul. Nolan's gaze drops to my lips, lingers there without much resistance at all. Butterflies hammer in my stomach. My brain buzzes with those words again. He likes you.
It's hard to think of them as false in moments like these.
But it would be insane.
My phone buzzes in my hand and it breaks me out the moment so hard I almost flinch. I take a quick glance, eyes swiping the notification.
Riley: Where are you? Your mom says you're not home?
Riley: Please let me know you'resafe.
Oh shit. I forgot about that. Those messages were an hour ago, Riley will spiral if I don't reply. She's probably set my mother off if she messaged her too. I can't have two people worried about me.
"Wait!" I call, stopping Nolan in his tracks.
He turns, eyes widened, silently asking if everything's okay.
"What do I tell Riley?"
The implication of the question only sets in when I say it. The normal, true answer would be what happened. I ended up at Nolan's coincidentally when the snow got really bad. But it's Riley. She might jump to conclusions, read into it. She'll think we've broken our promise to her.
But my chest aches with the thought of lying to her. I've already done it with my dad, I don't want that list to grow any longer.
Nolan's silent but thinking, I can see the cogs turning in his head.
"Forget it," I sigh, "I'll just tell her the truth."
"Don't do that."
His reply catches me off guard, my fingers hovered on the phone. He runs his tongue over his top row of teeth. He does that a lot.
"She'll freak out, you know what she's like," He explains, gripping one hand on the door frame, "Just say you were visiting a friend and got snowed in. That's only half a lie."
"What friend?"
He narrows his eyes, "You have friends outside of this little group, no?"
Not really. I could say Kat but there's no way that wouldn't come up in conversation later. Actually, Riley would probably immediately grill me on what fun stuff we did without her. Cole has just been discharged and again, I can't see a world in which Riley would brush past that.
My mind ticks with the last option. Alex.
It's a little different with him, I don't really know why or how, but our relationship functions on a weird level.
Not stronger or better than anyone else, just different.
I at least know that I can ask him to cover for me, no questions asked. He's reliable like that.
By the time I drag myself out my own head Nolan is still looking at me, waiting for an answer.
I nod, "I can come up with something."
"Good..." He says, but then hesitates, "I know you don't like lying to her but this is for her benefit. She'd lose her mind otherwise."
I hate it but he's right. She would.
We have one more lingering look before he shuts the door and leaves me alone, the room stilling. I immediately text Alex being as vague as possible. All he needs to know is that I got snowed in at his place tonight. Once I message Riley and my mom I shut the phone and crawl over to the bed.
My fingers find the lamp and click it off, plunging me into real darkness.
I push myself into the sheets. Nolan's sheets. They smell like him, that intoxicating masculine, cedarwood-infiltrated scent. It settles in my nostrils, reminding me of that lingering moment I lay in his lap. The warmth, the comfortable safety.
I'm suddenly drowning in every recent moment with him. His hand underneath my chin, tilting it upwards, sharing that blanket, his body impossible to ignore beside me. Every part of me that glows for him swarms in my body, melds together in my chest.
I know in this moment how stupid my denial is, how stupid it is to push away how I'm feeling. I think that's why Honey's words were so scary, why Nolan's own borderline-flirting is so scary.
I'm scared to be cared for.
I'm scared to be complimented.
But mostly, I'm scared because I like Nolan.
Way, way too much.
And him reciprocating that is the most terrifying fucking thing I can think of right now. Because it would mean I'd have to ignore it, continue to deny it, shove it away all for the sake of Riley. Because I wouldn't do that to her, I couldn't.
I'm half-asleep in his sheets, dreaming of him behind my eyelids, wanting nothing more for him to hate me so I won't have to deal with the consequences of Honey's words being true.
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